


Tony's scratch-off-the-bucket-list birthday extravaganza

by cherrygoldlove



Series: That’s what sugar babies do [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Peter Parker, Come Inflation, Come as Lube, Craigslist, Creampie, Explicit Sexual Content, Forced Orgasm, Gangbang, Group Sex, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Moresomes, Multi, Older Man/Younger Man, Overstimulation, Painful Sex, Poor Peter Parker, Porn With Plot, Prostitution, Rentboys, Rough Sex, Sex Work, Sex Worker Peter Parker, Sloppy Seconds, Sugar Baby Peter Parker, Sugar Daddy Tony Stark, Wet & Messy, eventual, unrealistic amounts of cum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:44:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22531693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrygoldlove/pseuds/cherrygoldlove
Summary: Tony did many crazy, exotic and ecstatic thing in bed over the years, but he never took part in a gang bang. So what better way to celebrate his 40th birthday than to gather his friend, find a cute  boy and check this out of his bucket list.He just didn't think he'd get so hooked up on the centerpiece of the night.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: That’s what sugar babies do [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629910
Comments: 13
Kudos: 395





	Tony's scratch-off-the-bucket-list birthday extravaganza

**Author's Note:**

> Peter's age is unspecified in this, but he's 'on the young side' ;) or whatever age you deem him appropriate ;)

Tony plops down on the couch in the living room, sweaty and still out of breath, with his cock hanging out of his hastily pulled up trousers. 

There was a game on the huge cinema, voice turned down low to be basically a background noise and he looked at it without any real interest. He was orgasm high and just out of it, trying to catch his breath. 

Looking around, patting the couch he located a box of tissues. Pulling out a bunch he gave his dick another wipe. 

Gentle, as he was still oversensitive from his third orgasm of the night. 

Damn, he's a king of brilliant ideas. 

He gives the game another look, head hanging low in his chest so it's more of a fleeting gaze from a raised eyebrow. Fuck he's tired. 

The commercial break comes on, and Tony focuses on another noise in the room. 

The wet slaps of skin meeting skin, the gasps and whimpers and soft cracking of the mattress. He lets his head loll on his shoulders and resting it on the backrest, he looks back into the bedroom. 

Thor was now on the boy, fucking him with long hard trusts, huge fists keeping the boy's hips in place as the teen twitched and twisted, letting out this pained huffs and groans. 

They've been at it for hours and Thor wasn't a small guy in any aspect. They barely let the kid up for a piss and a drink, drilling him into the bedsheets time and time again. 

Tony did many crazy, exotic and ecstatic thing in bed over the years, but he never took part in a gang bang. So what better way to celebrate his 40th birthday than to gather his friend, find a cute whore boy and check this out of his bucket list. 

Bucky and Steve retired half an hour ago, for sure to get one more round of their own in before sleep. Bruce was out for the night, snoring in the lazy chair, his last beer spilling out on the floor, clutched weakly in his hanging hand. Barton… He finished just before Tony got on the boy, so he should be around some where.

As if on cue, Tony heard couple glass bottles being kicked around in the floor followed by drunken cursing. There he was. Then there was a thump and more drunken cursing but in another voice. Scott. 

The whole floor was covered in empty bottles, kitchen and living room both. They drank a lot and fucked a lot. Tony smiled to himself, eyes still trained in the boy squirming on the bed, under Thor's powerful frame. 

Gosh that kid was something else. 

In his younger days, he’d just go cruising the most popular street corners, but apparently it was new age even for the oldest trade around, so Tony took to browsing Craig’s List and Grindr for his birthday gift. 

It took like a week of going through profiles, something always missing or the first pics not being anywhere near reality or the guys backing out. He was almost ready to give up and just either let this go, or get the first guy that agreed.

So it was late night, or very early morning when he was scrolling down his inbox, a bit resigned, when… there he was, looking like a wet dream. His mouth was pouty but thin-lipped and very expressive. His hair, dirty blond, were just long enough to have them curl up in pretty waves. 

The kid on the pic was dressed in oversized pink hoodie, black jean shorts so short that Tony could bet his gold Maserati on they’d not cover the butt cheeks when the boy turned around. And the image was completed with black, surprisingly intact fishnets and shiny, heavy boots, Dr Marten’s style.

The only thing that could make this more alluring was if the boy was sucking on a lollipop…

This. This was /the/ guy.

He wanted that one, the pics where too bad of a quality to be photoshopped, so it was as close to reality as possible he hoped.

What followed were long negotiations over text, then phone and video calls, going over when with whom, how long and for how much. Kid was definitely smart, sharp like a whip but with a naive softness that made him stumble over some words. Was it real or played to hit all his USPs, Tony did not yet know at that time, but he was enchanted.

Finally, they reached an agreement. Generous, but not enough to make the boy scared.

The kid had the cheek to ask if Tony wanted a test ride, and saying no was the hardest thing Tony had to do in years, if ever. But he wanted the anticipation to grow.

In the end, the kid was even more gorgeous live than on the pics and vid calls and Tony was the one to open up the kid on the night, work that first load in. 

Damn if that didn’t make his dick give a twitch even now.

Now, the kid - Peter - was clearly at the end of his endurance, his body moving as if of its own volition, trying to get away from Thor’s cock, his moans more of cries and pained yelps, but still, he didn’t safeword out. 

God, that kid.

Tony closed his eyes, the need to sleep overwhelming.

*

He woke up to Thor walking by him, his huge, wet dick waving almost in Tony’s face, making him startle in surprise.

Thor had no qualms about being naked, he never did. Not even now, parading around as he made his way to the kitchen to drink water straight from the tap.

Sitting up straight, Tony rubbed his face with both his hands.

He couldn’t have slept long if Thor has just finished up and got off the kid.

Speaking of the kid. Tony turned around to look into the bedroom.

They kept the room in semi-darkness, with only the bedside lamp on to make it more intimate, despite the sex act taking place.

Now, in the yellow light of the vintage lightbulb, Tony could admire the kid laying in the middle of the bed, on his stomach, with his hips still propped up on the pillow. The kid’s face was mushed into another pillow and if not for the rapid way his chest rose and fell, he was completely unmoving. The sheets around were destroyed, wet patches of cum and lube all over the crumpled material and they made such a startling contrast to Peter’s petite, innocent form. 

What made men want to tarnish the soft, fragile things so much?

With a shake to his head, it was too late, or early, in the night - day? - to think about it, surely. Looking back towards the kitchen he spotted the clock on one of the walls. Four am. They’ve been at it like what, six hours almost? Four for sure. How many times did the kid get fucked in that time? 

He’s still drunk. He gets up from the couch and makes his way to the bathroom on unsteady feet, which takes him by the bed as the bathroom was adjourning. The light is making the kid’s milky white skin glow peach smooth. And the dirty sheets, all the fluids and the reddish marks on the boy’s skin paint a very alluring image.

Tony keeps walking, he really needs to piss.

Done with his business, he looks at himself briefly in the mirror over the sink, splashes some water over his face and drying it up with a towel. That’s how much hygiene he can implement at the moment. 

He stumbles his way out, intent to get back to the couch and lay down for a nap properly, he’s wasted. 

But the kid is still there, lying prone on the bed and his butt… the ripe, round, bubble butt on such perfect display. 

The kid is truly glorious, even more now, somehow. Messed up like he is.

Tony makes his way to the right side of the bed, shimmies out of his trousers - no need to be uncomfortable - and lays down on his back, shifting so he’s just next to the kid, turning his head so he can watch him.

Peter opens up one eye, face passive. He’s clearly exhausted, too exhausted to even move.

Tony doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, and they just lay like that, just looking at each other, before Peter closes his eye, tired too.

The silence stretches, the game has become some late-night show or something, a silly sitcom judging by the bursts of fake laughter, Bruce is still snoring, there’s light traffic outside the building. He should sleep, he should let the kid rest. He moves his head so he’s looking at the ceiling, not at the kid. He closes his eyes, gives a deep sigh, trying to relax and ease into sleep.

But he’s only human.

He lifts his left arm and after a moment’s hesitation lays it gently over Peter, making the muscles in the boy’s back contract, the kid’s butt tensing under Tony’s palm, his spine shifting under Tony’s elbow and forearm.

But Tony just spays his fingers wide so he can encompass all of one, delightful bubble butt cheek, lets his fingers rest there on the warm, slightly damp skin. 

Peter doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, so Tony starts to knead the muscle of the kid’s delicious arse, fingers moving like a cat’s, but gentler. He thinks he could fall asleep like that, kneading the soft flesh, it’s almost like a stress ball. Round. Smooth. Perfect.

He gentles his kneading, starts to move his hand in circular motion, making the circles a bit bigger with every round, massaging, smoothing over the wet crack, delighted at the wet noise it evicts. Resting his hand on the boy’s right butt cheek, he tenses his fingers, grabbing the curvy bottom, starts up that kneading motion again.

The kid even relaxes a bit under his ministrations. So plump, the kid’s arse is so plump. The rest of him is lean, muscled even here and there. Properly taken care of at a gym or doing some sport, but the arse is plump like a peach.

His little finger slides into the wet crack and he can’t say if that was on purpose or did it just slide in because of all the wetness there. The kid tenses again, his arse cheeks now squeezing his finger in between them and Tony’s dick is taking interest. 

He’s cum in three times already, a personal record since he turned 30, as he can’t remember having more than two a night since his teen days. So a fourth orgasm in one night would be like, miraculous, but his cock is hardening and Tony thinks, ‘fuck it’. Well, quite literally.

The kid must be sore as hell now, and with the way he was under Thor just before and tensing now, he might not be up to a one more time. Tony moves his hand so he can press his middle and ring finger into the boy’s taint, tease him a bit. Fuck he’s wet there with all the lube and spunk fucked into and then out of him. Tony’s fingers are swimming in it as he rubs and presses, slowly sliding up and up between the tightly squeezed globes. He runs his fingers over the swollen rim of kid’s hole, making the kid’s breath hitch. His entrance is all plumped up, with a gape in the center that Tony can slide the tip of his finger in without any kind of resistance. Like sliding his fingers in a hot pudding...

“Another ten grand if you let me fuck you again now. You can opt-out at any time and get a half of that still.” He murmurs out, turning his head to the side again so he can look at the kid, gauge his reaction.

He finds both of Peter’s eyes looking straight at him, chapped lips open.

It’s basically a third of what he’s getting for tonight. 

The boy licks his lips, looks away in contemplation before nodding.

Tony grins to himself. Good boy. 

Peter moves his head, hides his head into the pillow again, forehead rest on his forearms, bracing for the upcoming fuck, but he also moves his legs apart, just a bit.

Tony shifts to his side and then to his knees. He spots a lube bottle and pumps out the last of it into his palm and lubes up, stroking his dick to full hardness. There’s no need for more lube with how dripping wet Peter still is, but there’s no reason he can’t make it as easy on the boy as he can. And damn if he doesn’t enjoy a sloppy, wet and messy fuck.

Moving to get into position, between Peter’s splayed knees, he lowers down on him. Chest to back, pushing him into the mattress, Tony runs his hands over the kid’s tense shoulders and down his arms to let his own forearms rest on the bed, to put his weight on them so he can move his hips more freely, drive his dick between the kid’s ample arse cheeks. He fits it there, sliding his hard cock in the mess of cum and lube. It’s so filthy, so perfect. 

Peter tenses under him when Tony’s cock head brushes over the kid’s sore entrance and he leans down and places kisses up and down the boy’s neck and shoulder. He sucks a bruise into the skin just under one shapely ear.

Shifting, moving his weight onto his right forearm, he smooths his left hand down the kid’s side, feeling the muscles tense, skin rippling. He runs his hand down, over the sharp hip and lower to the muscled thigh, and then up again. Lifting his hips, he gets his hand on his own cock, giving it a long stroke before he grips it surely at the base to guide it into the kid.

The kid is so loose and wet, the tip of his cock just slides in before Peter even manages to tense up, but then the kid’s hips flex, spine curling, trying to get away from the penetration as he grunts out in pain.

“How you doing, kid?” Tony checks in, just the tip of his cock in the searing, wet heat. He’s not a monster. Much.

It’s nearly impossible /not/ to fuck in properly.

It takes couple long, panting breaths, couple torturous moments of feeling the kid’s muscles rippling, flexing, /clenching/ before he’s given a breathy answer.

“F-Fine, but… f-fuck, just…/oh God/ just slide it in, one go-.”

Tony doesn’t wait for the kid to finish speaking and slides in fully, pushing out a sharp, squeaky “Mr Stark!” out of Peter as he bottoms out.

The kid bucks under him, spine curving and butt tensing as his body tries to get away again, but Tony already has his left hand on the boy’s hip, holding him tight as he grounds his hips deeper.

“Bloody hell, kid.” his own voice is strained, a whine. The kid’s body holds his cock in like a vice, pain making him tighten up despite all the fucking he got that night.

He tries not to move, give the kid a moment to adjust so he buries his face into the crook of the boy’s neck and bites his lip against the pleasure coursing through him, against the /need/ to just start fucking into the wet, rippling heat.

Eyes closed, and with how close he is to the kid, wrapped around him, he can hear every little hitch of breath, the little groans, how his body slowly loses that rigid tenseness, melding into something not quite relaxed but manageable.

The kid shifts under him then, splays his knees wider, hitches his hips up and Tony takes it as his cue and starts to grind into the lush heat, easing Peter into the fucking.

He maneuvers his hips, moves them in gentle circles, changes the angle till he hears that telltale gasp, muscles tensing but in pleasure. Gotcha.

No reason he shouldn’t make this good for the kid now, as he’s been perfect all night.

He keeps it up, keeps to hit the kid’s sweet spot and now they’re fucking, now Peter’s body takes interest and they’re both panting hard, working hard at chasing their pleasures.

“Fuck, kid, five more grand if you can make yourself come now, fuck, Pete, baby.”

He doesn’t think the kid came at all this night, it wasn’t anyone's prerogative besides fucking the kid into the mattress as many times as they could.

With a deep, drawn-out groan that is almost a keen, Peter shifts and Tony lets him prop himself up on one elbow, just enough so he can fit a hand under himself and wrap it around his own cock. Tony wonders if he’s already hard, if he’s been hard, if he’s not too exhausted to get himself properly off. Cause now he wants to see the kid come. 

He’s still wrapped tight around the kid’s back, fucking him with short fast trusts and the wet slapping noise is exquisite, so dirty, in the heated up space between them. They’re both sweating profusely, grinding together and it’s one of the more erotic fucks in Tony’s life. Damn, he hopes the kid will come, ‘cause he’s so bloody close it’ll be over in moments for him. 

He lays down fully on the kid, the forearm he was resting on now nudging under the kid, across his chest and he hooks his hand over the kid’s left shoulder so he can pull the kid into the thrusts. 

He shifts his legs, nudging Peter’s a bit further apart, leans more to his right side so he has more room to maneuver, so he can get his left hand under them too, to wrap around Peter’s cock. He needs to know, he needs to check. 

And the kid is hard and wet at the tip, squeezed hard between Peter’s wet fingers, more held that jacked off and that would just not do. Tony wraps his hand around Peter’s hand and cock and guides it in short, hard moves as he twists his hips to nudge the kid’s prostate again. And again. And again.

The orgasm is wrenched out of Peter’s exhausted body, a moan that is more a sob is ripped out from the chapped lips as his body tenses and twitches, oversensitive, overtired, overheated. It takes Tony just couple more thrusts to join him over the edge and it’s glorious. His orgasm rushes through his body in waves of ecstasy, making him pant hard, breath wet on Peter’s shoulder. As he comes around he notices he bit the peach skin, leaving a red imprint of his teeth in it.

Fuck.

He rolls off of Peter, feels his soft cock slide out effortlessly out of the wet heat, followed by a surge of come and lube. The boy, clearly overwhelmed, sobs weakly into the bedding, just laying there, weak, seemingly boneless.

“Hush, there. You did great, honey love.” Tony murmurs.

They’re sweaty and filthy and he feels too hot, but he wraps his arm around Peter, nudging the boy so he’s properly in his arms. He swipes the sweaty locks away from Peter’s forehead and plants couple kisses there before nudging the boy’s head under his chin, holding tight.

“You did so good, baby. Perfect.” 

He runs his hand up and down Peter’s trembling back, soothing him.

They cool off, Peter’s sobs die out and Tony is only half lucid when he reaches behind Peter’s back and pulls hard on the bed sheets to drag them over their bodies. They’re dirty, with wet patches of body fluids and lube all over them and he’s going to regret it when he wakes up, but for now, it’ll do.

*

He wakes up to the sight of Peter trying to get off the bed.

The kid managed to get to the edge of the bed but he’s shaking so bad he can’t coordinate his body properly. He tries to get his legs under him, but his knees won’t hold him and he keeps sliding back on to the bed.

When he manages to dump himself on the floor with a heavy thud and a muffled cry, Tony sits up, rubs hands over his face (winces when he remembers where his hands were before. Whatever.) and gets up off the bed.

He’s not unaffected by the marathon sex either, but clearly in a much better shape than Peter.

He walks around the bed till his standing towering over Peter’s slumped form.

In the light seeping from between the drawn curtains, the kid looks like a proper hot mess as he looks up at Tony. A bit fearful, a lot just exhausted. Honey gold eyes red-rimmed, lips chapped and looking a bit pale with a feverish blush over cheekbones. 

A twisted part of Tony want to feed him his cock for a good morning blow job, but he can’t even fathom getting hard.

With a sigh, he bents over and gets the boy into his arms so he can princess carry him into the bathroom despite the weak protests falling from the thin lips.

Peter is shaking horribly in his arms and Tony feels like a really bad man until he feels something wet drip and land on his knee.

“Toilet?”

Peter just nods weakly against his shoulder.

Without further questions, he walks up to the toilet and carefully sits the kid down. The floors are heated, so is the seat (yes, he’s that ass-centric) so the hiss he hears leaving Peter’s lips wasn’t about warm skin touching cold surfaces.

He makes sure Peter can sit by himself before he walks towards the bath. 

Before he turns on the knobs to let the water in, he hears a series of wet plops. Damn, how much cum did they manage to fuck into the kid? He’s oddly proud and satisfied it must have been quite a lot. 

Hot water filling the bath, Tony hunts for some bath oils. Lavender and bergamot. Perfect. He pours in a generous amount and then moves to find towels, folding them up and dumping into the bath to make a soft mattress out of them, laying some also on the side, so Peter can lean back on a soft surface too.

As an afterthought, he goes to run the shower too. The kid should rinse off beforehand.

When he turns around towards Peter, the boy is still sitting on the toilet, body bowed in half and his head resting on one hand, the other is folded on his stomach. He’s still trembling, legs jumping.

He comes to kneel in front of the kid.

“Hey, Pete, all good?”

The kid nods weakly, eyes closed.

Tony lifts his hand up to take hold of Peter’s head, runs one hand over the kid’s hair, swiping them out of the kid’s face.

“Peter?”

“My… tummy, hurt really bad. Like, distended. There was a lot of, uh, cum.”

So they basically gave the kid an all night long cum and lube enema. It sounded hella hot but was probably damn uncomfortable.

“All out now?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, come on, up, shower and then you’ll soak in a hot bath. You’ll feel much better after.”

He stands up and reaches down to help the boy.

Peter opens his eyes but doesn’t look at Tony as the man helps him to the shower, basically carries him, really. He just lets himself be maneuvered, head bowed down. He’s quiet and withdrawn.

Tony frowns but chooses not to address it yet.

He holds the kid up against his body with one arm firmly wrapped around the slim waist and washes them both down quickly and efficiently. Just when he reaches the point he should wash the kid’s arse and cock, he stops, hand on the small of the kid’s back, just above the enticing swell of his butt.

“You want me to wash you between your cheeks, or you want to do it yourself?”

Kid has his forehead resting on Tony’s chest so his reply comes muffled, so Tony prompts him to speak up a bit.

“I don’t think I can bear to touch my hole.” is confessed in a soft voice, Peter’s eyes still not meeting Tony’s.

Damn. Ok, he can work around that. 

“Let me try something.”

He moves them so there’s a lot of water sliding down Peter’s back and then moves his hand to rest between Peter’s cheek, so the water ends up cupped in his palm, creating a reservoir against Peter’s aching hole. Washing, but not aggravating. He lets the water gather and then slide away a couple times till it loses that slippery feeling.

Cleaned up, he assists Peter to the bathtub, helping him to get into the hot water, sitting him down carefully on his hip not to put any pressure on his arse.

The kid leans his head on the side of the tub with a deep groan, his trembling greatly subsided by the shower, now stopping completely as he relaxes, soothed by the warm, scented water.

Mission accomplished Tony gives the kid a long look over, feasting his eyes.

He clears his throat.

“You’ll be good on your own for a bit?”

Peter nods but still doesn’t look at him.

Fine.

Tony goes back to the shower and washes himself properly, head to toes, giving his cock a squeeze and a good wash. Boy did it have fun last night!

Freshened up he heads out of the bathroom.

*

He comes back some time later with a tall glass of lukewarm water for Peter. 

When he comes in, Peter turns his gaze away and Tony will not have it. He sits down on the side of the tube. He’s in shorts and a t-shirt now, but he doesn’t much care if they get wet.

“Here, you should hydrate.”

Peter sits up with a small wince and takes the glass from him, taking a sip.

“What’s with the not looking me in the eye spiel?”

He prefers the direct approach, saves times.

Peter flushes, brows drawing together and mouth twisting. Then he rubs a hand over his face, chasing away the expression and looking up at Tony.

“It’s just… I’m, uh, embarrassed. I lost it, last night, after- And now, I’m so weak, and, and you /heard me on the toilet/. God, I never used the toilet with anyone around! It’s so-” he cut himself off and Tony laughed.

“Kid, that was an intense scene, sure you did drop. Nothing embarrassing about that. And toilet? Bodily functions, perfectly normal. Chill. I’ve seen worse.” 

Peter makes an unhappy expression but lets it go. He finishes drinking and Tony takes the glass from him, putting in on the floor out of the way.

“Ready to get out of the bath? You’re all pruney.”

*

He leaves the kid to dry up and wash his teeth or whatnot and goes out to the bedroom, laying down on the clean sheets he put in place whilst Peter was in the bath.

It’s still too early to start his day.

Sometime in the night the guys must have woken up and left, the apartment was empty save the two of them. And shit loads of empty beer bottles. 

He starts to doze off when he hears Peter walk in and he cracks one eye open to watch him.

The boy falters in the doorway, eyes scanning the room before he makes his way, limping profusely, to a chair by the window where all his clothes are neatly stacked up on his backpack.

Tony is half tempted to call the kid back to bed, have them nap some more together, but that would probably be awkward.

So he just watches the kid dress up. It puts a satisfied smile on Tony’s lips to watch the kid limp, move slow and unsteady. What a night.

All dressed up in loose sweats and a hoodie - clearly dressed for comfort - Peter makes his way to the high chest of drawers near the side of the bed Tony lies on to gather the money he earned that night. Tony put all the bonuses there too, with just a little extra. 

“Hey kid,” he starts, startling the boy. With a chuckle, he opens his eyes properly and sits up, feet on the ground. “Ever thought to get promoted to sugar baby?”

“Mr. Stark?”

“Sugar baby. Very well funded position. Comes with your own little apartment somewhere close by, a credit card and all the usual perks and benefits. Flexible working hours. Sounds like something you’d like to do?.”

Peter clutches the money in his hands, looking uncertain, worried.

“Uh, Mr. Stark, sounds… great, but, uh, I- I don’t think I can do all /that/ again. It was, uh, a bit a lot, so if you’d-”

“Nah, that was a one-off, scratch-off-the-bucket-list birthday extravaganza. I usually don’t share. I won’t share. Just you and me and in the arrangement. You can safeword out anytime and take all you’ve earned with you. Sounds fair?”

Peter fidgets in place, still looking unsure.

“Can I think about it Mr.Stark? I- I’m not, uh, in a good moment to make such a decision now?”

Tony does his best to hide his disappointment, but he’s not sure he manages.

“Sure, you know where to find me. I’ve stuck a card in one of the envelopes, invitation is open, but not indefinetly.” He gets up and walks out to the kitchen, tripping over a bottle. He curses under his breath as he stumbles.

He finds his phone on the kitchen counter and sends a quick text to his driver.

“Happy will take you wherever you want to go. He’ll be by the entrance, black Bentley.”

He hears Peter’s soft thank you behind him and more shuffling. Probably putting on his shoes.

Damn it. He's not ready to let the kid go.

Tony turns around and walks up to the boy, looks him in the eye, watches a flush raise on Peter’s cheeks and he breaks. 

The kiss is deep and passionate, drawing out a startled moan from Peter, a soft yelp as Tony tugs on the curly locks drawing the boy closer. Then the kiss softens and Tony pulls away. 

“Thanks, kid. You’ve been spectacular, exquisite. You blow my mind.” 

He looks the kid straight in the eye and leans in for one more kiss, not breaking their gaze, and then he steps away, takes couple steps backward before slowly turning around and walking to the bedroom with a little goodbye wave.

“See you around Pete!”

*

It's three months before he sees the kid again. 

Peter comes into his office all sheepish and shy, dressed in jeans and a blue jumper, with a collar of a button-up, checkered shirt peeking out and with both hands clutching the strap of a backpack he has over his left shoulder. He looks like a dorky, straight A’s good boy and nothing like the night time delight that he is.

Tony just smirks, informs his secretary he is not to be disturbed and engages the lock on the doors with a button under his desk.

Then he gestures for the boy to come to him, gets him to undress down to his panties - a surprising red lace tiny number - and sits him on his desk with knees splayed wide. 

Rummaging in one of his drawers, he retrieves a big, soft-pink, ball-shaped lollipop (yes, he dreamed about that since he saw the kid’s profile pic) and gives it to Peter with an instruction to suck it like he means it and then he leans back in his chair and jacks off to the show.

Peter leaves his office with a credit card, apartment keys, and instructions for the evening.

* end *

**Author's Note:**

> How'd you like it? Hot enough? :D


End file.
